What It Is To Be Loved
by Last To Be Anonymous
Summary: Bella Swan is a young history teacher turned popular fiction author on the run from her past. Jacob Black is the owner of a successful series of custom auto-body repair shops. Paths cross and sparks fly but the past isn't always easily left in the past. AU/AH! Rated M for future 'mature' situations and violence, you have been warned!
1. Pro

Hello!

Here is my first official attempt at fanfiction. I have always been greatly interested in all of the fictions that have had the characters that we have come to know as supernatural beings actually all being human so that's where I thought that I would go with this work of fiction. Give it a read and please do review and let me know what you think.

On another note, I don't currently have a beta for this fic and would love to have one, if anyone is interested or can point me in the direction of a good one I would love it!

So onto the formal stuff: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

Thank you!

* * *

"With my last breath, I'll exhale my love for you. I hope it's a cold day, so you can see what you meant to me." ― Jarod Kintz

Prologue

It hurt to breathe. My face felt like it was one large bruise; I couldn't breathe out of my nose although it had mercifully stopped bleeding. My lips were cracked and swollen and it felt like I had to force each breath of air into lungs that didn't want to take it in any longer. Even if I had wanted to open both my eyes it would have been impossible, one was swollen shut and the other was well on its way to joining it.

I leaned my head back against the damn stone wall and for a moment felt like crying again. I pulled what little reserve I had left together and refused myself the luxury. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing how he had broken me.

God, I wanted to die!

But dying is easy.

All I would have to do is take a breath and then let it go, allow the darkness that has been begging for my release to wrap me in comforting arms. There is peace on the other side of death. A promise of rest, all I would have to do is let go of all the things that were making me want to fight for each breath that rattled in unwilling lungs.

Death promised no more suffering, no more pain or fear or anxiety. No more looking over my shoulder, no more fighting to remain true to myself. No more papers to grade or stalkers hidden around street corners. No more deadlines or sick days.

Death meant the end of terror and torture.

Death also meant letting go, it meant knowing that I would never again be wrapped in the arms of the man who loved me with all of his heart. No more long walks on sandy beaches, Labor day barbeques and fourth of July fireworks. No more chocolate cake or tubs of Ben and Jerry's while watching the latest soppy chick flick with my best friend. Death meant that I would leave behind everyone that loves me, my loving father and frivolous mother, my friends, the man who had my whole heart and make them live through the knowledge that my passing was not easy and that in the end I chose the easy way out.

Accepting death means that while I would gain peace, an eternal reprieve but I would also miss out on so many of the good things in life. Weddings, birthdays, births, friends, family, love…

Dying is easy what they don't tell you is that choosing to endure, to suffer, to live, to hope that there is something beyond torture and entrapment where there is a chance that you can have your life back is a choice that is almost too painful to make.


	2. Chapter 1

Hey!

Are people interested in me continuing this story. If so, please please please drop me a review. Also, I don't currently have a beta for this fic and would love to have one, if anyone is interested or can point me in the direction of a good one I would love it!

The formal stuff: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

Thank you!

* * *

"Failures are finger posts on the road to achievement." – C. S. Lewis

Chapter 1

"Are you ready yet? You have to leave in ten minutes and still haven't eaten anything!" Leah's voice drifted through from the living room.

"Just be a minute." I called back before going back to staring at my reflection in the mirror in my bedroom. This was the best move I had ever decided to make in my life; I reminded myself as I smoothed down the front of my black skirt and buttoned the front of my black suit jacket. Just because I had been rejected before didn't mean that today was going to be the same. Today I was going to blow them away! I took a deep breath and applied a coat of lipstick before turning away from the mirror and heading for the living room. "Hair up or down?" I asked Leah as I threw my lipstick and cellphone in my black shoulder bag.

"Down." She didn't even look up from the book she was reading.

"You could at least look up before you decide." I grumbled at her.

"Couldn't call myself much of a best friend if I had to look up to tell you that your hair always looks better down." She closed her book on her index finger and raised her eyebrow at me. I caught sight of the title page and frowned at her. "You look like you're going to a funeral." She was blunt.

"And you look like you're having a romantic relationship with that couch. Did you have to start reading those books?" I retorted not at all hurt even though I threw her a strategic pout. "You are supposed to look smart for an interview not like you're going to a carnival."

"Well you look smart bitch face." She smiled at me. "It's not my fault that you write one hell of a riveting novel, I hadn't read the Scottish one yet and found it in the room that's supposed to be your study." She said tossing me a Cliffbar. "Don't forget to eat."

"Thanks skank." I grabbed my keys and slipped on a pair of black heeled pumps before reaching for the front door.

"Remember to come back in time to change; we still have plans for Firewater." She called after me and I froze, getting a horrible sinking feeling in my stomach. In the back of my mind, all I had wanted to do was curl up on the couch with a bad chick flick and tub of ice cream to sooth the post interview anxiety.

"Firewater is tonight?" I turned and cringed.

Firewater was one of the most difficult to get into cocktail lounges in the city unless you were somebody or knew somebody. Leah _was _somebody, she also liked to remind me that if I would just get an ID printed with my pseudonym that it would be easier for me then it was even for her to get whatever I wanted in the city. We wouldn't have had any trouble getting into Firewater even if Leah wasn't so special, we had been friends with the bar manager there for years.

Doesn't sound like a bad end to a stressful day and normally I would say that a few tasty cocktails and good company would have been lovely but company was the problem. Leah had been majorly crushing on a mechanic she had met through work and had managed to score a date but only on the condition that she bring a friend for his friend.

I wasn't a fan of dating in general, not that I was a nun and I certainly didn't like blind dates. The only reason I was going through with this was because I owed Leah big time. If I didn't know her and her semi-predatory nature so well, the fact it was also a double date would have set me at ease. Where Leah was concerned there was no such luck. She had worked in the male dominated automotive world of luxury cars for the last few years and had learned to grab what she wanted with both hands in a rather forward and aggressive manor, men were no different.

"Yes, Firewater is tonight so don't screw around, just get your ass back home so I have time to get you ready." She replied.

"Leelee." I whined and gave her a pained look.

"Don't even think about canceling either, a promise is a promise." She shook her head as she opened her book again. I groaned but slipped out the door and out toward the car park.

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!

Why did I ever agree to go out to Firewater the same day that I had a job interview? I groaned again as I opened the door of my old and lovingly restored 1953 Chevy 3100 half-ton pickup and climbed in. I gently closed the door and gave Eleanor's steering wheel a pat before inserting my car key. Her engine rumbled to life and I smiled.

Eleanor, as my truck had been lovingly named by my grandfather as he drove her brand new off the lot in 1953, was my baby. Grandpa had had her restored not long before I graduated high school and proudly presented her to me as my graduation gift, he had passed away later that summer and I had made it my mission in life never to be without her ever since. It was a reliable if not practical vehicle and had fared well as she carried me down to California with all the worldly possessions I cared about.

It took barely fifteen minutes to make it to Russell Hall Academy, there was little to no traffic on the roads and the parking lot had very few cars when I pulled in. I parked Eleanor a respectable distance from the school's main entrance before doing a last minute make-up check and taking a steadying gulp of air. I opened the door of the cab, smoothing my skirt as I closed and locked the door. It was show time.

Russell Hall Academy looked like it belonged in another time. It was massive sandstone structure that looked medieval in origin. It had dark sweeping archways topped with gothic carvings that looked more menacing then welcoming. I could feel the intimidation before I even walked through the door. I closed my eyes and counted to ten before taking two steps forward, my eyes snapping open and up as I collided with a warm hard chest.

I would have hit the deck hard if an equally warm arm hadn't wrapped itself around my waist almost by reflex. Somewhat dazed and more than a little panicky, I looked up into the face of Adonis himself. Liquid brown eyes sparkled with mirth from a finely chiseled face topped with a careless mop of black hair. Full lips were curved in a gentile smile that showed off fine white teeth. My knees buckled a little, the breath caught in my throat and an embarrassing warmth traveled from my navel to between my legs.

He was breath taking, movie star breath taking.

"It's okay to breathe." He grinned and the blush I was sure was already creeping across my cheek bones spread until I was sure it colored my entire body but I did start breathing again. It was only then that I realized that he still had an arm wrapped firmly around my waist; I was so close to him that I could feel his body heat radiating between us and my hand was planted firmly on his abdomen. It wasn't anything sort of a six pack that I was feeling under my fingers either.

"I am so sorry." I took a hasty step back, holding both hands in front of me before dropping them to my side.

"No worries, I have beautiful women run into me all the time." He was mocking me good naturedly and I suddenly felt all the muscles in my body tense. The embarrassment quickly subsided and I frowned at him. "I'm Jacob Black."

"I'm sorry again, but I'm late." I tried to move around him but he quickly blocked my path.

"Late for what, miss-?" He left the sentence hanging in clear enquiry.

"An appointment Mr. Black." I smiled tightly.

"You'll run into me but you won't give me your name?" The corners of his mouth were turned up playfully, his eye sparkling as he looked at me.

"Hopefully your day will improve." I inclined my head and escaped around him, the tips of my ears burning as his laughter followed me into the main building of Russell Hall Academy.

It didn't take me long to find the reception. The school's secretary was busy talking to a girl in her early teens that looked uncomfortably like the man that I had bumped into in the parking lot outside with her long black hair, liquid brown eyes and russet colored skin. Great, my first impression to a potential student's father was forever going to be of the stammering idiot, that couldn't see two feet in front of them.

The school secretary was an older woman who took one look at me and paused the conversation she was having with the young student. "You're here to see Mr. Simmons?" She asked.

"I have an appointment for an interview." I extrapolated. She reached for the phone in the corner of her desk and made a quick call, presumably to Mr. Simmons, one of the depute heads and announced my presence.

"Second door on the left." She pointed back out toward the main hallway.

"Thank you." I nodded as I wiped suddenly sweaty palms on my skirt. Why was I doing this again? I didn't need the money. No, money wasn't an issue but having a greater purpose in life would be nice. I reminded myself as I offered her a quick smile and headed toward the door that would signal the potential for my first legitimate job in three years.

I knocked politely on the indicated door that had Mr. John Simmons written in brass just above eye level. A call from inside indicated that I should go in and I opened the door. The room was large and yet it felt stifling and oppressive. The walls were paneled in a dark wood; the drapes on the curtains were dark crimson red that matched the thick carpet on the floor. A middle aged gentleman sat behind a huge hard wood desk and frowned as I closed the door behind me.

"I trust you had no difficulty finding Russell Hall Miss Swan?" He said motioning for me to take a seat in the chair in front of him.

"No problems at all Mr. Simmons." I replied.

"Shall we begin?" He fixed a pair of reading glasses to his nose and glanced down at my resume which was on the desk in front of him. I nodded and tried not to bite my lower lip as the silence seemed to drag out around us while he read. "Why did you decide to become a teacher Miss Swan?" He looked up at me suddenly.

"My mother was a history teacher at our local high school when I was growing up. She was a real inspiration to me, and she is one of the major reasons I pursued a teaching career. Her ability to guide students, her passion for her subject, her fairness, and her sense of justice made me aspire to bring those same qualities to my own classroom." I offered a smile. That was an easy question.

"What is your approach to or philosophy when it comes to classroom teaching?" He didn't seem impressed.

"I believe in instilling a passion for lifetime learning into my students. One way I instill this passion is by being a model lifetime learner for my students. For instance, in my classroom, you will hear me thinking aloud, interacting with the text during reading, and demonstrating inquiry by asking questions. I believe that every child can reach their learning potential, with high expectations, the necessary support and opportunities, and a caring classroom." I had to remind myself firmly not to insert my lower lip into my mouth as he studied me critically.

"How would you describe yourself?" He was frowning.

"I would describe myself as adventurous and outgoing. I have spent the last two years traveling throughout South America and Europe. I love learning about new cultures, absorbing their histories and meeting new people. This is one of the reasons I want to teach at Russell Hall Academy. It has amazing diversity. I would take this same enthusiasm and apply it to learning more about my students and their backgrounds so I could help them learn about the world they live in." I was suddenly aware that Mr. Simmons had an intense dislike for me and it made me shiver.

It was after perhaps thirty minutes of discussion about the schools I had been a student teacher in as well as the high school where I had spent two years as a full time teacher that the conversation paused. Mr. Simmons had never warmed up to me and all of his questions seemed to be building up to something that felt almost sinister.

"What exactly is it that you really want from life Miss Swan because I don't believe that you truly want to be a teacher at all?" He almost sounded cynical as he sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers.

"I'm not sure that I understand your question." I frowned.

"We do thorough research on all job applicants Miss Swan." He was frowning back at me. "You were particularly interesting. A promising graduate, a highly commended history teacher in the first two years of full time teaching and then you become seemingly unemployed for three years before sending us an application. So we did some digging."

"Then I'm sure that you found that I haven't been up to anything untoward over the last three years." I looked at him.

"No, we didn't find anything untoward in your own behavior; however, it became quickly apparent that your application comes in the wake of a rather interesting court case in Washington and your flight from that state." He said bluntly.

"I was being stalked, threatened and harassed by an individual who is currently serving time in prison for his behavior." I frowned.

"Let us be honest with one another Miss Swan." He stood up and buttoned the front of his suit jacket while looking down at me. "I agreed to meet with you as a favor to the principal who has been a good friend of the principal at the last school you taught at for many years. I, however, find that even with your outstanding teaching record and your interesting career path of the last three years, that you are too high risk an individual for the Academy at this time. We are a prestigious school and I cannot in good conscious risk exposing our students to your past. If that changes in the future, I will be in contact."

"I understand." I stood, feeling somewhat sick to my stomach and nodded once to the sullen looking Mr. Simmons' face before turning and striding as quickly as I could at a walk out of the room without appearing too rude.

Fuck Mr. Simmons and his nasty little face.

Fuck the far too self-important Russell Hall Academy.

Fuck that bloody piece of shit, Edward Anthony Mason , who seemed to even be able to control my life from his ugly little prison cell hundreds of miles away!

This rejection wouldn't have been as particularly bad if it was the first but after three months of interviews and rejections all based on the fact that my life had become a little too high profile this one really stung. I made it to Eleanor quicker than I thought possible and couldn't even be impressed that I had managed to do so without tripping over my own feet or running into anyone.

That was my luck seemed to run out. I went to talk the final step toward my truck so I could fit the key into the lock to trip and half slide down the door, my keys making the most offal sound as my hand slide down Eleanor's side as I tried to keep myself from falling forward onto my knees. I removed my hand only to find two big gouges in her paintwork surrounded by lots of smaller scratches.

I felt hot tears fill up my eyes.

Just what I fucking needed right now, God damn my life!

I opened the door and got into the cab, closing the door gently behind me. A single tear dripped down my cheek which I quickly swiped away. I was done crying over things I had not control over, I reminded myself harshly as I started the engine and pulled out of my parking space. Maybe I should stick to living in my pajamas and writing, at least everyone thought I was good at that. I took a deep breath and turned on my sound system, letting the sounds of Kito and Reija Lee penetrate my skin and flow into my veins.

Tomorrow, I would go shopping and get everything that I needed to set up the unused office that Leah had given me. I would find a reliable automotive repair shop to fix Eleanor's paint and when I was done I would consider opening the black Vaio that up until four months ago I had saved especially for writing. My editor and publisher would be beside themselves.

Fifteen minutes later I walked back through my front door in a slightly better mood then when I left the stupid private school. Leah hadn't moved from the couch but the book she had started that morning before I had left was over half way finished. She glanced up at me as I closed the door and threw my handbag next to the sideboard in the hall.

"So?" She asked.

"Edward continues to run my life." I groaned kicking off my shoes and heading for the kitchen. I turned on the kettle and pulled out my small loose leaf tea pot and a couple of teacups. "Raspberry Lemon?" I looked over my shoulder and Leah nodded. She had put her book down and followed me as far as the doorway of the kitchen.

"What happened?" She asked.

"Just like the other's; my stalker makes me a potential threat to the students even though he's locked behind bars." I shook my head as I prepared the tea and poured the hot water over it before leaving it to steep. "Then I maimed Eleanor in the parking lot tripping over my own damn feet."

"How bad?" She frowned.

"A small dent and some down to the metal scratches." I sighed.

"Eleanor we can fix. " She said sympathetically. "What are you thinking now Bella? You going to try moving again?" She asked, a frown appearing on her face. Despite the fact that she always said she liked her space, Leah had been all too eager to have me move in with her instead of me finding my own place when I moved down to California.

"Not unless you're sick of having a flat mate." I shook my head. She smiled again. "I think it's time to give up on getting back to teaching. I'll set up the other room you gave me and start writing again." I shrugged.

"You should definitely get back to writing but tonight we get wasted." She grinned, moving past me to the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of Pama and poured a splash in each teacup before I poured the tea in. "Come on, we may as well start getting ready." She grinned at me.

"The reservations aren't until seven-thirty. We don't have to leave for another three and a half hours." I raised my eyebrows at her.

"Trust me, give me enough time and your own father wouldn't recognize you." She winked at me and pulled me in the direction of her bedroom laughing. I couldn't help it, her excitement was infectious and there was a smile spread across my face before we made it through her door.


End file.
